The Dragon Incident
by burnwithme42
Summary: Mycroft gains material for blackmail.


_A/N: Quick disclaimer, Sherlock and Mycroft's parents are never really mentioned in any franchise, so I had to make them up. Elenora Holmes is a figment of my own imagination and headcanons. I also didn't do a huge amount of editing on this and wrote it over the course of two late nights. So it may not be fantastic. But here it is anyway._

"Sherlock, come out here, you look adorable."

"I hate you."

"Just come out and show Mummy."

"I despise you."

"Sherlock, please?"

"I hope you get an A- in science."

"That's very rude, you take that back."

Sherlock made a growling sound at his fourteen year old brother through the bathroom door.

Mycroft sighed. "Please, Sherlock. Mummy reeeeeaaaally wants to see you."

"She's going to try and take pictures of me," Sherlock replied, his voice muffled by the door. "I'm going to regret this for the rest of my life."

"Oh, please," Mycroft said. "In twenty years, we'll barely remember this."

A noise of contempt came from the bathroom.

"Sherlock, please? For Mummy's sake? And if not for her, for me?"

There was silence for a long moment, then the sound of the door being unlocked.

Sherlock emerged. He was dressed in a green dragon costume, complete with hood, wings, and tail. A few dark curls were visible beneath the costume's hood, and despite his death glare, he looked absolutely adorable.

Mycroft resisted the urge to break into giggles at his brother's appearance. He held out a hand to Sherlock.

Sherlock put a scaly paw in Mycroft's hand, his expression unchanging.

Mycroft lead Sherlock out into the sitting room, where their mother was seated, her legs crossed elegantly as she stared off at nothing.

Elenora Holmes, a rather lovely woman with her dark, curly hair up in a bun, looked up when her sons entered. Her lips split into a small smile. "Well," she said. "It appears we've got a little dragon in the house, Mycroft."

Sherlock growled at her.

Elenora's smile grew slightly. "Come here, let me see you."

Sherlock let go of Mycroft's hand and went to stand in front of Elenora obediently, though resentfully.

Elenora uncrossed her legs and sat forward to look at Sherlock with her eyes that matched Sherlock's so perfectly. "You look very vicious," she said.

Sherlock bared his teeth and crinkled his nose. "Rawr," he said, slightly sarcastically. "When can I take this off?"

"Soon," Elenora replied. "It's Halloween, have a little fun."

"This isn't fun," Sherlock protested. "This is child abuse."

"You can take it off when you go to bed," Elenora promised.

Sherlock pouted. "Why can't I take it off now?"

"Because it's Halloween," Elenora repeated. "You're supposed to be in costume."

"What's Mycroft's costume?" Sherlock asked. "Insufferable arse?"

Elenora frowned. "Sherlock, apologize," she said.

Sherlock glowered.

"Sherlock," Elenora said, warningly.

Sherlock turned around to look at Mycroft. "Sorry," he said grudgingly.

"I forgive you," Mycroft replied automatically.

"Good," said Elenora. "Now run along and play until bedtime. I'm sure you can find something to do in that costume," she said.

Sherlock glared a bit, but exited the room.

Elenora turned to Mycroft. "Get the camera," she said.

Mycroft nodded and left quickly.

**Later that evening.**

"Mycroft," Elenora said, walking into the kitchen where Mycroft was washing dishes. "Would you do something for me?"

Mycroft looked up. "Yes, Mummy?" he said.

"Sherlock has locked himself in the closet," Elenora said. "Would you help me take him out? It's past his bedtime."

"Yes, Mummy," Mycroft repeated. He dried his hands and followed his mother upstairs and into Sherlock's room.

All of Sherlock's most prised possessions had been removed. The closet door was slightly open, but nothing could be seen inside. Sherlock could be heard growling faintly inside.

Mycroft approached the door and stuck his head into the closet. "Sherlock," he said. "It's bedtime."

Sherlock looked up at him. He was curled up on the floor, holding the skull Mycroft had given him, and surrounded by the other items he had moved. He growled viciously.

"Sherlock," Mycroft repeated, not sure whether he should be exasperated or amused.

Sherlock opened his mouth and made a strange hissing noise, as if trying to breathe fire at Mycroft.

Mycroft looked back at Elenora and raised an eyebrow.

Elenora just shook her head slightly.

Mycroft looked back in at Sherlock. "Sherlock, come on." He extended a hand.

"Get away," Sherlock growled. "Get away from my treasure."

"I don't want your treasure," Mycroft told him.

"Nobody steals from a dragon," Sherlock hissed.

Mycroft sighed. "Sherlock."

Sherlock just growled.

"Fine," Mycroft said. "You leave me no choice." He stepped into the closet, scooped Sherlock up, and put him over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" Sherlock cried, still clinging to the skull. "You will regret this!" He made the same hissing noise as before.

Mycroft stepped out of the closet and crossed the room to deposit Sherlock on the bed.

Sherlock growled and hissed some more.

"Thank you, Mycroft," Elenora said. "I can take it from here."

Mycroft nodded once, then stepped back. He stood in the doorway and watched as Sherlock was changed into his pajamas and put in bed. Sherlock glowered at his mother, and kept hold of the skull, looking quite possessive of it.

Elenora tucked Sherlock in and kissed his forehead before turning out the light and leaving the room.

Inside, Sherlock hugged the skull close to his chest and glared into the darkness. He had seen his mother take a few pictures of him. He was sure blackmail would be issued in the following years, no matter what Mycroft said. Nobody was going to let him forget this.

Well, Sherlock thought to himself, at least he had gotten the chance to be a dragon. He smiled smugly to himself, then closed his eyes.

**Something like twenty years later.**

Sherlock walked into the sitting room with a cup of tea to find John sitting on the sofa and smiling at a letter in his hand.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked, sitting down in his chair and looking at John.

"Mycroft sent me a letter," John replied. He held it up and looked at Sherlock. "He told me about the 'Dragon Incident'."

Sherlock stopped. His eyes widened slightly.

"And he included a photo," John added.

"Let me see," Sherlock said immediately.

John held out the photo. It showed a seven year old boy in a green dragon costume, sitting in a closet, hugging a skull possessively, and baring his teeth at the camera.

Sherlock took it and was about to rip it, when John gave a cry. Sherlock stopped and looked at him. "What?" he said.

John had one hand reached out towards Sherlock. "Give it back," he said.

"Why?" Sherlock said.

"I want to keep it."

"_Why?_"

"Because I do! Just give it back. Please?"

Sherlock hesitated, then handed the photo back to John.

John smiled again. "Thank you," he said. He put the photo and the letter together, then put them back into their envelope.

"Please don't show anyone else," Sherlock begged.

"I won't," John promised. "It's between you, me, your mother, and Mycroft."

"And the queen," Sherlock grumbled.

"What?" John said, startled. "The queen knows?"

Sherlock sighed and shook his head. "You don't want to know," he said. "There was blackmail involved."

John blinked. "Alright..."

Sherlock looked at John for a second. "Er... Please don't judge me too harshly for that instance," he said. "I was seven, and I was going through a phase of being extremely odd."

"You're _still_ extremely odd, Sherlock," John pointed out.

"I was odder then," Sherlock said.

John blinked. "I'm not sure what that would look like," he said.

Sherlock shook his head. "Just don't think I was that strange my entire childhood."

"Sherlock, it's _cute_," John said.

Sherlock blinked. "Really?" he said.

"Yes," John replied confidently.

"Is that good?"

"Yes."

"So you aren't going to judge me?"

"No."

"And we're still friends?"

"Yes."

"One more thing."

"Anything."

"Can we never speak of this again, please?"

"Yes."

_A/N: For Sarah, who loves some Littlelock._


End file.
